Remember Me
by Winter's Light Blossom
Summary: Lost to time, a young women is found in the strangest of places. She has no memory of how she got there or any idea of what has happened since she fell asleep. All she knows is who she is and the face of the man that has plagued her every dream. Boromir/OFC
1. Prologue

This song, "Dante's Prayer," is owned by Loreena McKennitt.

* * *

**~{ Remember Me }~  
****Prologue**

When the dark wood fell before me  
And all the paths were overgrown  
When the priests of pride say there is no other way  
I tilled the sorrows of stone

I did not believe because I could not see  
Though you came to me in the night  
When the dawn seemed forever lost  
You showed me your love in the light of the stars

Cast your eyes on the ocean  
Cast your soul to the sea  
When the dark night seems endless  
Please remember me

Then the mountain rose before me  
By the deep well of desire  
From the fountain of forgiveness  
Beyond the ice and fire

Cast your eyes on the ocean  
Cast your soul to the sea  
When the dark night seems endless  
Please remember me

Though we share this humble path, alone  
How fragile is the heart  
Oh give these clay feet wings to fly  
To touch the face of the stars

Breathe life into this feeble heart  
Lift this mortal veil of fear  
Take these crumbled hopes, etched with tears  
We'll rise above these earthly cares

Cast your eyes on the ocean  
Cast your soul to the sea  
When the dark night seems endless  
Please remember me  
Please **remember me**


	2. The Sands of Time -

**~{ Remember Me }~  
****The Sands of Time…**

The sun is hot on my face and the air thick in my lungs. I stretch myself as far as I can and grab hold of the nearest enclave. I climb steadily and at an even pace. I do not look down because that would be my undoing. One thought about exactly how high up I was and I would lose my nerve completely. I have to concentrate on the next reach, the next pull, or I would surely fall to my death.

The air is silent. Suddenly, somewhere in the forest above a flock of birds are chirping. They sing songs to one another in a language belonging only to them. Their voices grow louder as I climb higher, striving to reach where they hide.

A gust races passed and unnerves me. I react quickly and flatten myself against the rock wall, holding on for life. I look up towards where the wall of rock ended. I could only see sky divided by the cliff's edge.

The birds take flight and soar into the cloudless sky. They carry their song upon the wind with them. It has changed though. It no longer spoke of love and happiness. It was sporadic, anxious. Something had frightened them.

My hands shake and tingle with nerves. My heart hammers in my chest like the beating of their wings. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing; in and out; in and out. Then I open them and stare at the obstacle I clung to.

_So close..._

_I am so close to the top..._

I grit my teeth and begin my climb once again. One hand grips the edge while the other sits in an enclave. I pull myself up with eyes closed and jaw clenched. I struggle to lift myself. I am so tired; muscles straining; arms shaking. Another few feet till the top.

"And here I thought you were terrified of heights." The amused, rich voice throws off my concentration. My eyes snap up to the edge where a tall man with a fair and noble face stood. His locks of golden brown fell shortly about his face and made his grey-blue eyes gleam in the light of the early afternoon.

My lips part, but no words escape. His stern, straight brow knits together as he stares down at me. His fur-lined cloak sways in the breeze and wraps about his sturdy, muscular frame.

"Are you alright?" He questions and then gives a hearty laugh. The smile reaches his eyes. "You cannot give up when you are so close! Come now. Climb."

My hands sweat as my heart hammers against my ribs. I stretch out my arm and grab hold of an enclave in the wall of rock. My eyes never leave his face as I continue to climb upon his encouragement.

"Good! You got it." He smiles warmly down at me. "Just a little more."

In the back of my mind there is recognition. I know this smile. I know this man, but I cannot recall a name. No matter how hard I try, I cannot remember anything more than his face.

As I swallow uneasily, his eyes lock on my throat. He locks on my gaze. He sees my fear.

"Gwen?" My name crosses his lips like a strip of the finest silk, "You look as though you've seen a ghost."

I say nothing in response. His expression changes as quickly as the sky before a tornado.

"Gwen!" He lurches forward with a hand outstretched towards me. His chest hits the soil, arm extending down to grab me. Comprehension of what has happened strikes me like a bolt of lightning.

My right foot had slipped.

I was falling.

Time seems to linger as though a charm had been cast upon us. I was plunging painstakingly towards the ground far below. I reach for his hand, but it was too late. I was too far gone for him to catch. His lips move, but they do not make a sound. I can hear nothing except the rush of the wind and my heart beating like hummingbird wings.

He calls out my name again…

…and again…

…and again…

I can no longer see the features of his face. He is but a blur on the top of the cliff. I straighten and look down at the approaching sea, the crashing waves, and the rocks.

At this moment, I could not remember an ocean being at the base of the cliff. I could not remember hearing the waves colliding with the rocks as I climbed. I could not remember how I had even gotten here or why I had climbed in the first place.

The charm breaks. I plummet towards the fierce waters like a falcon on its prey. The ocean grows dark. The air turns cold. The sun disappears behind dense grey clouds.

The last thing I hear above the screaming winds and raging heartbeat was my name. I close my eyes, prepare for impact and sigh as I listen to his comforting voice screaming out for me as though his words alone would catch me.

"Gwen!"

…as though they would cradle me…

"GWEN!"

…as though they would save me…

"**GWENEAL!"**


	3. - Are Running Out

**~{ Remember Me }~  
**…**are Running Out**

Silence encompasses me like an old friend. Light wraps around me like a blanket of ice, tight and numbingly cold. There is no breeze. No air of any kind that I can distinguish from anything else. In all directions is only the piercing, stark white. Everything is one entity.

The light should sting my wide open eyes, but nothing hurts. My body is unwilling to bend or flex. I am paralyzed by whatever this strange white is. The blanket of white light is too tight, but, as time goes on, I become comfortably numb to its hold.

My mind wanders. I try to remember how I had gotten here. I can remember the cliff, the smell of the brisk afternoon air, the warmth of the sun on my skin. I can remember the song the birds were singing and the sound of my heart beating in my chest. I remember a voice; rich and deep and comforting. I still cannot recall a name to place with his face. I begin to wonder if there is a name at all. Perhaps he is merely something my mind has concocted to deal with the predicament I have found myself in.

I try to recall how exactly I got here, wherever here is. I remember slipping from the cliff and falling to the ocean. Then nothing… only the blinding white that surrounds me now. It is unlike anything I have ever known, ever seen, ever heard of. It is consuming. It is eerily welcoming to me. I want to give into its invitations, but a voice screams for me to resist. I cannot give in for reasons I do not fully understand.

Deep down I know better than to trust such an illusion. I realize that I am a prisoner in this white cell. I am doomed to repeat sweet dreams of a man I have never known. Dreams of a man who I am beginning to understand I will never know. I will only know this Hell that disguises itself as a frozen Heaven while time is running short. I can feel it in the ice that moves through my veins.

Something is happening outside this deception. Something I had been a part of at one point. Something I am a part of still, but barely. I can recall a vague image of what it is, but I cannot describe it for some reason. I cannot put it to words. It is there and yet it is not at the same moment; something unable to be grasped completely like air through fingers.

I am holding on by a thread to this _something_. I can feel the warmth, the life, seeping from my body with each passing moment that I am here, trapped in this whiteness.

I can feel that the sands of time are running out.

* * *

**~The Fellowship~**

They are climbing the mountain pass. It seems the safest route given the circumstances. There are unfriendly eyes everywhere though. Until they can destroy **it**, none of them are truly safe.

"Frodo!" Aragorn, a lean man both dark and tall with shaggy hair flecked with grey and a stern pale face, shouts above the frosty wind. The Fellowship looks back towards the end of their single-file line. Frodo, a hobbit with bright eyes, dark curly hair and a cleft chin had stumbled in the snow and rolled. Aragorn aids him to his feet, patting his shoulder.

"Where is it?" Frodo asks no one in particular as his hand searches fervently for something that had dangled about his neck. "Do you see it? Where is it? Where did it go?"

Aragorn knew instantly what was lost. His eyes scan the everlasting white for a glimmer of gold and then halt upon the ring. Slowly, his eye rise to the man who has stepped up to pull the item from the snow.

"Boromir." Aragorn calls, but the man does not hear his name. Boromir lifts the ring up and examines it with a steady gaze. "Boromir!"

The strapping man sways from his trance and looks to Aragorn. He sees his hand has come to rest over the hilt of his sword.

"Give the ring to Frodo." Aragorn's words are a stern demand. Boromir feels the eyes of the Fellowship about him. He gives a scoff of a laugh to shrug off his embarrassment and then hands the ring to the tallest of the four hobbits in their group.

"Of course. I care not." He speaks up as Frodo snatches the ring dangling on the chain-link necklace. Boromir laughs softly and ruffles the hobbit's hair. He readjusts his shield and turns away, heading up the path passed the others.

Aragorn's stare meets the gaze of wiser eyes. Gandalf, a white bearded, bushy eye-browed wizard, was uneasy with Boromir, Son of Denethor, since the Fellowship left Rivendell. His gaze conveys this to Aragorn.

The Fellowship moves onwards and finds themselves upon a narrow pass through the Misty Mountain. The sky is hidden behind heavy clouds that threaten their end. They move slowly, unwilling to allow the forces that be control their fate when so much was depending on them. A voice trickles into the harsh wind that blows against them.

"There is a voice on the air!" Legolas Greenleaf, a strange Elf, clad in green and brown from the forest of Mirkwood, stood upon the edge of the path.

"It is Saruman!" Gandalf cries and looks back at the others. Snowflakes have frozen in his great grey beard. Lightning strikes from behind the clouds and hits the mountain. An avalanche of snow pours off like running water and buries the Fellowship in a blanket of white.

A moment passes. Legolas frees himself first. The others follow soon after, hobbits pushed to the surface by the two men; Aragorn and Boromir.

"Saruman is trying to take down the mountain!" Aragorn cries above the wind and thunder. "We must turn back!"

"No!" Gandalf argues. It was his idea to pass through the mountains. It was his idea that had put them in greater danger. His eyes turn to Frodo, cold and frightened. His gaze softens.

"We cannot stay here! It will be the death of the hobbits!" Boromir exclaims while holding Merry and Pippin, the other hobbits, close to his chest. They shiver and their teeth chatter with cold. Gandalf knows Boromir speaks truth.

"If we cannot go through it, then let us go under it!" The dwarf with long auburn hair, Gimli, jumps in. "Let us go through the mines of Moria!"

Gandalf's expression changes drastically. He fears what may be lying in wait for them in the dark recess of the dwarven mines; Balrog of Mordor.

"We shall let the ring-bearer decide." Gandalf's eyes turn on the hobbit in Aragorn's arms. "Frodo?"

Frodo looks at his friends, shivering and blue. The decision is not made easier though.

"We shall go through the mines." He declares, unknowing what evil darkness breeds.

"So be it." Gandalf can only look away. If only they knew what he knows about the world they live in. "So be it…"

Boromir and Aragorn clear a path down the narrow pass; a wall of snow built by strong arms separating the sea of white. The walk down takes longer then the journey up the mountain. They are all tired and freezing from head to foot.

They settle on resting in the evening when the grey light was waning fast. They build a fire and ate what they could scrounge from their satchels. The hobbits huddle in search of relief from the biting cold of the mountain. Aragorn was standing, patrolling the surrounding area with flecks of ice in his beard and Legolas at his side. Gimli was already fast asleep and snoring louder than anything the other had ever heard. Gandalf stares blankly into the flames of the fire with his staff pressed firmly to his side.

Boromir sat across the fire from the hobbits, cloak wrapped tightly about his body to retain any heat that was left in him. His eyes, like Gandalf's, stare into the fire as though it may speak to him. The flames dance, but offer no warmth of consequence.

The wind howls and hisses as it passes through the trees and over the rocks and snow. The sky, littered with stars, offers little light in the unyielding darkness surrounding them.

"How the wind howls." Gandalf comments as he tears his eyes away from the fire. Aragorn moves closer and then listens carefully. The wind was carrying something odd upon it.

"The wind carries the howls of Wargs! They have come West over the mountain!" Aragorn shouts and unsheathes his sword. The others get to their feet and look out into the darkness. "We must make for the hill."

Aragorn looks to Gandalf for acceptance. He nods and Aragorn leads the Fellowship to a hill upon which is crowned with a knot of old and twisted trees, about which lay a broken circle of boulder-stones. They make a new fire, understanding that there is not much else that can be done to lead the wolves away.

Those that are not on guard doze in the cold silence of the night uneasily. Aragorn and Legolas patrol the broken circle, eyes staring out into the darkness at the watchful eyes that stare back.

Boromir's eyes grow heavy. His head begins to droop, chin resting against his clothed and cloaked chest. He is not fully asleep when he begins to dream.

* * *

_Boromir finds himself walking along the frozen mountain alone. The snow crunches beneath his heavy boots. The air is dead silent; still. The sky is an odd color. It is exceptionally bright, but he can find neither the sun nor the sky. There is only white._

_Before him lies a tall hill covered by snow; the only one of its kind. He walks around it slowly while studying its sides. He finds an entrance, a doorway slightly taller than himself that is wide enough to fit six grown men through at once. However, no man was going to enter. The doorway is closed, shielded by ice._

_He instinctively lays a gloved hand against it, feeling the smooth surface that keeps him from discovering the secrets the mountain holds in its depths. It  
is warm like a rock too close to the fire. The ice cracks beneath his hand. Slowly, the ice shatters into flakes and joins the snow on the ground. The entrance is open, but he hesitates._

_He hears a wolf howl in the vast distance. He looks behind him, seeing nothing but white and a horizon line dictating sky from ground. Another howls erupts, but he must know why the mountain had shut the door to this path._

_He slowly enters the mound. Light disappears the further he travels. The walls of the tunnel are stone, but something glimmers within it. He stops to examine and finds small fragments of crystal. Crystals of all kinds littler the stone and refracted the light from outside. He continues on with no sense of apprehension._

_The tunnel seems everlasting, but it has an end. It empties into a large cavern. Crystal spears climb out from the ground in all sorts of directions. Some are in clusters while others are solitary. The crystals here have a light tinge of blue. They are different from the others for reasons unbeknownst to Boromir._

_He halts and takes in the majesty this place holds. It is marvelous, unlike anything he has seen before. He notices something ahead of him. A lake sits further in the cavern, reaching to the end where it meets the wall. A crystal, larger than any he has imagined possible, rests in the middle of the lake and stretches from ceiling to far below the water where the ground sat._

_Without realizing it he has walked to the edge of the lake. The gentle waves lap up against the soles of his boots. His eyes lock on the crystal or rather what lied prisoner within it._

_A woman with golden-hair and fair skin appears to float above the lake, trapped within the crystal like a bug in amber. Her arms lie crossed over her breast, fingers spread out and touching her shoulders. Her feet point ever so slightly downwards and legs straight and together. Her hair is fanned out and the white garments she wears seem to be blowing in a breeze._

_Boromir stares at her in silence. She is unlike anything he has ever seen. She holds a simple and yet otherworldly beauty that entrances him. As he stares longer upon the sleeping woman, he feels a sensation telling him that he does know her. Somewhere, long ago, he knew her._

_A howl echoes through the cavern. Shouts of familiar voices follow close behind, calling his name. A loud crack reverberates and overwhelms the howls and calls. Boromir watches the woman with steady eyes._

_Her eyes open while her right hand shoots out and hits the glass, palm flat against it. Her eyes, a deep piercing blue, lock on Boromir. Something about her eyes speaks to him. These too are familiar._

_Another howl echoes from outside: another shout._

"_The sands of time…" A voice familiar to Boromir resonates in a whisper. Boromir's eyes retain their attention on the woman. "The sands of time are running out…"_

_Boromir wishes to ask what she meant, but he is drawn from the cavern by an invisible force. He is heaved from the tunnel and out the entrance into the white. The hill disappears into the white._

* * *

Heat washes over Boromir as his eyes flutter open. He notices the trees are all on fire. The whole hill is alight. The sounds of swords and whooshing fill the night air. Boromir scrambles to his feet and draws his sword. All around them are Wargs, howling and snarling.

A Warg slips into the circle and approaches Boromir from behind. Legolas lets loose an Elvish arrow, piercing the creatures burning heart. The other Wargs flee into the darkness with whines and cries.

The Fellowship settles back into the circle, huddling closer to the fire. At dawn they look in vain for the bodies of the dead Wargs, but they cannot be found. Nor any sign of the others lingered.

"These were no ordinary wolves." Gandalf speaks as he looks around at the charred trees. "Let us hurry and leave this place."

So they did. They eat quickly, pack up their belongings and head out without as much as a sigh. Boromir brings up the rear, mind lost to his thoughts. He thinks about the woman in his dream. How vivid it was for a dream!

Aragorn looks over his shoulder at his kinsman. He notices the distant look upon his brow and slows so that he may catch him.

"Are you alright?" He asks quietly as though not to draw attention from the others. Boromir looks to the backs of the others and then glances at Aragorn; the would-be ruler of his city. "You slept like one of the dead during the ambush."

"I had a dream." Boromir tests the water between them. He was uncomfortable speaking of such things with him.

"It must have been pleasant."

"I assure you it was most disturbing in the end." Boromir looks at the others again and then off to his left.

"What was it?"

"I walked this mountain alone. Only… it was not this mountain at all. There seemed neither sky nor sun, but everywhere was light and silence; a deafening silence." Boromir readjusts his shield over his shoulder. "I came upon a hill and then a door locked by ice. When I laid my hand upon it, it cracked and turned into snow. I walked a tunnel filled with every crystal you can imagine fixed into the walls. Then there was a cavern with more crystals, longer than you or I and thicker than a grown man's arm."

Aragorn looks to Boromir, expression unchanging.

"There was a woman." Boromir continues, "She was trapped within crystal that stretched from ceiling to bottom and through a body of water. She was akin to some kind of eternal rose caught in the first frost of a cruel winter."

"Do you know her?" Aragorn asks hesitantly. Boromir shakes his head and looks down at the snow he walks on.

"I have never seen her before." He answers, "But she felt familiar."

"Perhaps a childhood friend or someone you glimpsed in the White City. After all, white seems a prominent shade in this dream of yours." Aragorn offers, but something about the dream made his uneasy. It reminded him too much of an old story. A fairytale for children… or so he had thought.

"Maybe." Boromir agrees, but is not fully convinced.

* * *

Descriptions of characters from LOTR came from Tolkien. I only borrowed them because I could never do a better description than the original author has done.


End file.
